


Yours is Much Better than Mine

by PaulineHolmes02



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Camping, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Holidays, Humor, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, John is a Saint, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Nature, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Bed, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Sherlock is a Brat, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 12:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulineHolmes02/pseuds/PaulineHolmes02
Summary: On their little holiday in Oxfordshire, Sherlock finds out that he forgot his sleeping bag. Will John allow him to sleep with him in his?





	Yours is Much Better than Mine

" So... Tell me again what are we doing here?" Asked Sherlock as he was sitting on the big boulder, even though he was absolutely aware of where they were and with WHO...

John gave his friend a patient look, the look designated especially to him. The good doctor would deserve a halo, he must have been a saint when living with the High-Functioning Sociopath and not strangling him yet. God knows that sometimes he wanted to... " We're in the campsite, we decided to camp out with Lestrade and your brother..."

Fortunately, the weather sided with their little trip, it was a very nice afternoon. The air of early summer felt warm against their cheeks, the light breeze made a comfortable surrounding, not too cold or hot. It smelled nice, like a clear and fume-less environment, accompanied by the scent of mushrooms, flowers and wood.

The quiet comforting bubbling of Thames stroked their ears and filled them with peace and calmness, as it flowed through the spacious green meadow, just sparsely populated with the few tents. The campsite was filled with trees, which were spread randomly around the whole area.

They were in the Oxfordshire, but not because of the case (to Sherlock's annoyance). The group of four men travelled there to entertain themselves a bit and enliven their holidays. John had to say that he really liked that part of England, so he suggested that they could spend there a weekend or so. The others agreed (even Sherlock, he grumbled about it just for appearance's sake - 'because he's a High-Functioning Sociopath...').  
So they packed everything useful (" No Sherlock, you can't take your microscope with us..."), Mycroft managed to get a car - a nice green Land Rover - and they made their way to their vacation.

Sherlock took care of the car, you would be surprised, but he knew how to drive. Although the passengers were a bit nervous about it, after all, the detective was an unpredictable man, you never knew what he was about to do...

The drive took almost an hour and a half to get to the destination they wanted to but it was worth it. The change in the environment was dramatic. As if they had visited some kind of new, unknown world. It was so calm, so peaceful, so free...

" You decided, not 'we'..." Sherlock pointed out, but even though he sounded annoyed, there was also a sign of amusement in his voice. Then he folded his arms across his chest and sneered, as he brushed his eyes over his companions.  
" And I really hope that those two will have their 'things' private..." He significantly raised his voice so his elder brother would hear him.

And he did. Mycroft looked up from the peg he was knocking on the ground. " Are you jealous, brother dear?" He returned a mocking smile to his cheeky sibling and continued to hammer the peg with a stone.

The younger one brushed the bent man with a critical eye. " I hope you don't mean of yourself..." He scoffed, finding it very hard to resist to tease his older stoic brother.

Mycroft's thin lips pressed together and its corners raised in the grin which kept Sherlock getting mad. " Admit it... You are..."

" Myc, be good!" Greg admonished his boyfriend, pointed out that the way he provoked his brother was bit-not-good. He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze to warn him.

The truth was, that in some way, Sherlock WAS jealous of his brother. Not only because he was the smarter one, but also he was in a happy relationship, which was getting visible on his waistline again (more than usual, Sherlock thought). He envied that Mycroft could sleep beside the man he loved, feel the warmth coming out of his lover's body...

" You haven't changed at all - You're such an idiot, Sherlock... I'm the smartest one..." Sherlock snapped in the defence, refusing to show any sign of sentiment.

He got a very egoistic reply, just like he expected. " I am..."

John let out a tired sigh and rolled his eyes, as he made a few steps towards two brothers. " God, you can be a pain in the butt sometimes..." He commented and hoped they will stop so they could relax and enjoy the weekend.

But it wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes if he didn't have the last word, he would outlive a God to speak last. " Yeah, he's been always like that..." He commented, almost daring Mycroft to try to deny it.

John's nerves couldn't handle this anymore. It has been a long busy week and he was so looking forward to calm down and just be in the presence of people he cared about. His plan didn't contain standing here and listening to the endless fights between those two stubborn men!  
" I meant BOTH of you... Can't you just once behave like grownups? It's just afternoon and I already have a headache from your squabbling!" He rubbed his temples and ran his head through his blonde hair.

" Sorry..." Brothers apologized in unison.

But even though they had apologized, John was well aware that they won't stop arguing, he knew them well, this was just a calm before the storm.

" Well done... And now get your ass in gear and give me a hand! They are almost finished, and we haven't even started yet!" He pointed his finger towards the orange tent Mycroft and Greg were working on. He hoped that if he'll find Sherlock something to do, he won't be so annoying and bored.

The detective raised his eyebrow and looked him up and down with a critical and a bit surprised face. " John, you were a soldier, you should know how to build a tent, you were in Afghanistan!"

'God, how come he has ALWAYS a reply prepared for EVERYTHING?' thought John, but he has already given up his attempts to win against Sherlock's arguments. " Of course, I could build a tent in my sleep... But It doesn't mean that I won't appreciate some help..."

* * *

" How can you, of all people, forget your sleeping bag?"

The famous duo was sitting in the small blue A-shaped tent for two, preparing themselves for sleeping. The thick darkness outside seemed like it could swallow their shelter, the night was so different from nights in the London, quiet, peaceful, dark...

Boys had spent a nice evening with a little walk around the surrounding area, admiring the peaceful landscape of Oxfordshire, but it took a bit longer than they expected. When they arrived at the place with their tents, the sun had already gone down.

With the rest of the evening, it continued to get colder and Greg lit the fire so they could have something to eat.

Then they just sat on the checked blanket, chatted, listened to the sounds of nature and drank the beer from cans. Even Sherlock did, even though he was against drinking alcohol (it kills brain cells, John!), he adapted himself to the rest of the group. It couldn't hurt, for once...

When the darkness fell completely, they were offered to see the night sky filled with stars so bright they could count them.

But even though they were enjoying themselves, the younger Holmes had found himself peeking at Greg and Mycroft, the way they sat beside each other, the way Greg held him... His brother became a completely different person whenever near the Detective Inspector, he seemed more relaxed, happier. He always thought he was the more emotional one of the two, he had never expected the Ice Man to find a partner. As it seemed, Mycroft was better in everything. What a git... 

  
Now, John was staring at his best friend with arms across his chest, his left eyebrow raised, eyes sparkling with the amusement in the weak light of the torch. His thin lips were curled in a sneer.

" I must have deleted that..." Sherlock shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly and rubbed the back of his head, thin fingers brushing the black soft curls of his raven hair.

The doctor rolled his eyes and resisted an urge to add 'obviously'. " Deleted the fact that we will sleep in a thin tent in 15 degrees? The nights here are quite cold, you know..." He wasn't sure what to think. He knew very well that Sherlock kept deleting useless things (like a Solar system), but this was something else, it was for his comfort and health.

Detective's thin shoulders shrugged again and he brought his large Belstaff coat closer to his body. " So what? I'll sleep in my coat..." He said, keeping the tone of his baritone neutral, but somehow it sounded like If he was daring John to say something.

" Fine..." John mumbled uncertainly and slid into his khaki green sleeping bag. He owned it for so long, he has stopped counting years it belonged to him. It had outlived even Afghanistan. Those weren't good memories, but somehow he still could not get rid of it.

" Fine..." The tall man repeated, bit offended - as if he had expected John to do something about it - and laid down on his right side, turning his back on John.

The tent sank into a few minutes of silence, the only thing that could be heard was their quiet breath and the hooting of tawny owl.

Sherlock shifted on the floor and turned on the other side. The bottom of the tent made a rustling noise underneath him. " John? Are you asleep yet?" He whispered quietly, his eyes darted in the dark and his heart pounded in his throat.

Another rustle, this time from John's side of the tent. The doctor turned his head to the right, seeing just the silhouette of his companion. " No... Why are you asking?" The ex-soldier said in the in an undertone, a bit worried about the way he sounded.

" Just... because." The detective said slowly, his deep baritone oddly unsure. It was quite a miracle he could speak through his tensed throat.

John heard him like this only in very rare moments, so it was quite surprising to see the detective hesitate. Then he understood and the corners of John's lips curled upwards and soon he felt himself smiling like an idiot. He knew exactly what Sherlock wanted. That git...  
" God, come here. You'll freeze to death without the sleeping bag and not even a gram of fat isolation on you..." He growled playfully and moved to the left to make some space for the other man.

Sherlock gratefully moved up towards the short soldier and slipped into the sleeping bag beside him." Thanks... I was getting afraid that you won't say that..." He remarked cheekily as he shifted to find a comfortable position.

John chuckled. God, that man could be a blighter. Sometimes he wondered how he managed to maintain his patience without punching his friend in his nose.  
But he didn't want him to change, not in the slightest. Those imperfections were just the reason why the man was so fascinating - he has never met anyone like him, he was unique, different, mysterious... " You bastard... I just hope you don't snore... Or kick..."

They laid there for a couple of seconds in complete silence, each of them deep in their thoughts.  
Sherlock rested on his back, thoughts and various scenarios buzzed inside his brilliant mind, projecting in his Mind Palace. What if John found it uncomfortable? After all, he was disturbing his personal space. The cold High-Functioning Sociopath has never paid much attention to the emotions of people around him, he simply didn't care. But John mattered, he was somehow very important to him. The doctor pointed out many times that he wasn't gay, and here he was, pressed against him like a leech. He turned his head to look at his flatmate with an unsure face.

" Do you mind?"

John seemed a bit caught off guard by the care in Sherlock's voice. Sherlock never cared about the comfort of other people.  
" No... After all, we have gone through I'm not even surprised..." He said light-heartedly. When they visited the Dartmoor for the first time, during the Baskerville case, they had to share the same bed, because there was only one free room. But this was better, he had to say. Feeling Sherlock's lean body against him seemed domestic and natural. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. 

" That's good... I mean this... I think I like it..." Said Sherlock before he could stop himself. As soon as he realised his mistake, he wanted nothing else but bite off his tongue. He knew it wasn't only his fault, it was the closeness and he was sure he could also blame the beer he had drunk. He drank alcohol only occasionally, well aware of the fact that alcohol kills the brain cells. That was absolutely unacceptable!

John raised one eyebrow, not sure of what was the detective pointing out. " What? Laying in the sleeping bag with your flatmate squeezed together like sardines?" He asked conversationally, glad his tone hid his true feelings.

One of Sherlock's curly black strands tickled John's cheek as the man beside him nodded slightly and John almost took it in his fingers and tucked it behind his ear. He could almost feel the warmth of the blush which spread across Sherlock's cheekbones.

" Yeah... John, I...This is hard for me because I'm not good with emotions... I know that I'm a difficult person to understand and I can be a pretty arsehole... Maybe it doesn't look like that, but I value you more than anything and I really care about you.  
I've never met someone like you, who wouldn't judge me for the way I think, who would stay with me despite my bad habits, who wouldn't see me as a freak..."

He took a deep breath until his lungs burned and closed his eyes so he wouldn't be able to see the disgust in John's face." WhatImeantosayIloveyou..." His words blurred together into an obscure united sound.

The doctor's heart skipped a heartbeat or two. Has he misheard himself? It wasn't possible that Sherlock would return his feelings, was it? " What? Did I hear you well? Have you just said that you love me?" He asked, ignoring how stupid he sounded. He could almost predict Sherlock's 'Stating the obvious again?'.

Sherlock's cheeks gained even darker shade of red and he lowered his gaze as he peeked at his friend from underneath his long dense lashes. " Sort of..." He blurted.

" That's good... Cause I feel the same way, I think..." John's cute round face turned scarlet right after he declared the way he felt about his crazy flatmate. The blood rushed into his soft cheeks and to very tips of his ears. God, he couldn't believe that he had said it out loud...

Heterochromic eyes sparkled despite the darkness of the tent. " Really?" John's heart jumped when he heard a hint of hope. " But... I thought you weren't gay?"

The soldier smirked, remembering their conversation at Angelo's when Sherlock asserted he was married to his Work. " Well, I thought that too... Actually, I'm not sure when I'm around you... "

" I'm flattered... I made the straight Three-Continent-Watson gay..." Said the detective, feeling like himself again. Although, John recognised the relief and joy in the teasing sentence.

The bubble of laughter escaped John's lips as he watched the man beside him, his pale face glowing in the dark. " Don't be so self-satisfied, not everything turns around you..." He paid him back in his own, his mouth widening in the smile.

Sherlock tilted his head and it seemed like he was deep in thought. " Almost everything..." His 'egoistic' response made the soldier roll his eyes.

" Do you ever shut up?"

The deep inhale of air told John what will follow. He has heard it so many times that it didn't even surprise him.  
" John, as usual, you see but you don't observe... You're living with me almost a year now, you should have noti- uhm-" The detective's usual tirade was stopped by something warm and soft. It tasted like tea and biscuits and beer.

Sherlock gasped, he didn't expect that. Well, he didn't even dare hope for this and there he was, laying inside the sleeping bag with the man who used to be in the military, declared himself as a straight and managed to live with him for longer than a week. In short, he was kissing the man he has fallen in love with since the first day they met.

John squeezed lightly his pink bottom lip with his teeth and felt pleased with himself when Sherlock produced a deep moan. Then he loosened his occlusion and brushed his lips against Sherlock's swollen lower one, softly like a wing of the butterfly, to ensure that he didn't bite him too much.

The detective wouldn't mind even if it hurt, because it was John who was kissing him. This was the first kiss he had ever gotten and it was perfect, much better than he had thought. He couldn't imagine anybody else he would give a right to touch his lips, but the small army doctor was allowed to.

He has almost released another groan when something warm and wet caressed his mouth, and encircled the whole edge of his cupid-shaped lips, leaving the damp trace which threatened them, causing them to swell a bit as the blood rushed inside them.

John pulled away, unwillingly, and examined the flushed face of his friend? (boyfriend?) , whose mouth turned ruby and contrast with his pale skin, except his cheeks which were red like two apples.  
" This is a quite amusing way to stop your garrulous mouth..." The ex-soldier whispered, caught the black strand of curly hair in his short fingers and swept it away from Sherlock's eyes.

The detective grinned and covered John's hand with his and pressed it on his cheek. " I think I should blather more then..." He muttered and almost purred with pleasure when John's thumb started drawing small circles on his pale skin.

" Oh come here..." The doctor grabbed the black sweatshirt Sherlock wore, pulled him to himself and smashed his mouth against detective's. His right hand ran into his soft curls and he continued to stroke his cheek with the other one.

The tall man let out a quiet moan and tangled his legs around John's thighs, pressing himself as close to him as possible.

Although their lips separated, they rested in the close position, snuggling to each other. Their limbs were tangled, you would have a problem to recognise where does the body of the first began and where it ended.

Sherlock rested his head on John's muscled shoulder and breathed in doctor's pleasant smell and enjoyed the pleasant warmth which was coming out of John's body.  
Then he remembered something and raised his head a bit.  
" Oh, and John? Maybe I should say that I didn't delete to take my sleeping bag, 'cause yours is much better..."

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Did you enjoy your holiday? Did you also camp somewhere?  
I hope you like it, I needed to write something more cheerful :)  
Have a nice day!
> 
> Yours,  
PaulineHolmes02


End file.
